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Date: April 9, 2023 Body of Water: Mousam Lake - Shapleigh, Maine Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous Moon Boat: amybaby22 With: A Target: Trout Time: 9:45 AM - 2:30 PM Conditions: Perfectly clear and bright; fluctuating westerly wind to about 10 mph and 40 - 50 degrees. Water temperature 38-40 degrees and still some shelf ice and icebergs on the lake. Clear, tannic-stained water. My "Opening Day" finally arrived, and A joined me on a trolling quest for trout. We headed south, expecting to find open water and perhaps a more advanced Spring setting, and were surprised to find a band of ice preventing access to most of Mousam Lake. We were confident it would break up with any wind and the predicted warming temperatures, but until that happened, we were stuck in the southernmost portion of the lake. I wasn't exactly pleased with this development, but we made the best of our situation and set a quick spread of four lines featuring a single pink DB Smelt spoon off two colors of lead line and three flat-lined Rapalas (Blue F11, Green S7, Orange J9). Quarters were pretty tight, and I'd already done a few laps of the available water with no hint of action when we passed a rocky point. I stalled our momentum at the edge of the weedy break into 15 feet of water to about 1.5 mph and re-engaged. The lead-core line triggered an aggressive strike, but with an apparent swing-and-miss. Before I could even react, though, two lines jumped and each rod bent over with a fish. Double-header! A lost her trout that had eaten the blue F11 (125 feet off the rod tip), but I was happy enough to boat a healthy, 15-inch brown trout that had returned to eat my DB Smelt. An hour into the 2023 season, I had finally broken the ice! With that milestone now behind us, we quickly set up another pass and scored a second, slightly smaller brown on the F11. When that proved to be the last of our action here, we took pause to assess the performance of the new Minn Kota's Spot-Lock ability. We returned to the waypoint of our initial hit and engaged the Spot-Lock feature. We easily and quietly held our position for several minutes with no further effort or attention from me. This will be a difference-maker! By now, the ice-jam had broken up and so we motored north. We fished the shallow neck just south of the causeway (this has produced browns in the past) without luck, and so we continued our way north. The main lake was totally open except for the back of some bays and the entire northern section I had intended to fish. This forced me to find some new water, and that was pretty easy. This lake is filled with rocky shorelines, points and reefs. When I'd basically trolled the entire eastern shoreline without another bump, we called it a day. What do I have to say about this? Water temperatures (38 - 40) were below my confidence level for consistent action, and so I'm happy with a couple of targeted browns landed and a third chance at a fish. Low speed seemed to be important, but maybe some good luck was just as important. All three fish came from basically the same spot, and I didn't find anything else, anywhere. It felt grand to be back on the water and outside in the sun! The fishing wasn't great, but I won't complain, either. It should only get better as Spring progresses and the water warms, even if only a few more degrees. I found some promising shorelines to return to, and any day on the water shared with A, loons and a bald eagle is certainly a good day! Moreover, amybaby22 appears to have weathered Winter just fine, and with her bottom painted and the installation of the new trolling motor, she is clearly ready for another great season! I've dreamt and day-dreamt a good deal over the long winter about a simple and comfortable trolling session. I made it! I am stunned at how much a brief connection with a small fish can mean to me. All I can say, is that feeling is real, and it is important. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: February 12, 2023 Body of Water: Worthley Pond - Peru, Maine Boat: None, Ice-fishing With: Alone Target: Trout Time: 9 AM - 3 PM Conditions: Clear and generally calm with just a little bit of WSW breeze at times; 19 - 42 degrees. Over a foot of solid ice. My traps were set by 9 AM. It had been a bit of a drive, and I'd gone past many trout opportunities on my way there, but I was set up in a spot for which I had high hopes. This part of Worthley Pond (Peru) offered an inlet stream, a small point, a delta, and a sharp break into the lake's basin. Plus, I'd caught a few trout here on the troll in my late Fall efforts of 2022. Some frozen holes indicated others had thought the same, but I was alone for the day. Other groups were scattered around the lake, but especially clustered around obvious points. My first three holes were concentrated on the most obvious features, and my smelt swam about half-way to bottom in 9, 16, and 25 feet of water. I placed my last two traps to the south and west, with one in just 5 feet and the last in 42 feet. Once again, I was surprised by the lack of action by the time all traps were set. I drilled a few more holes and used the sonar to look for fish. The only sign of life was right along bottom in about 32 feet. I pulled a nearby trap, but these fish did not respond positively to my lure. My next move was to place a smelt in their face, but that never resulted in any action, either. I continued to poke around, adjust and move my traps. From 2 to 40 feet down, I had it covered. I had just moved one trap from the top of the delta to the northern edge when the flag sprang to life. Once again, an active approach on the ice paid off. I was pleased to see line steadily spooling off the trap as I approached. I knelt, grabbed the line and immediately came tight. It wasn't heavy, but I was still happy with landing my targeted quarry, even if it was only 14 inches long. I continued my adjustments and re-located a couple of traps to this area. There was a promising and steep drop-off into 30 feet of water very nearby, and I really believed a smelt hanging there would be very visible. I was visited around 1 PM by a local who was fishing across the lake and to the south. He reported that the lake was typically slow in February, and any action was good action. He'd taken a brookie in shallow water at a stream outlet in the early morning, but had otherwise skunked. He said I was in a good spot, though, as the largest brown he'd ever seen from the lake (13.5 pounds!) was caught where I was set up. (Who knows how long ago?) I wanted more action, but I was more than okay with waiting a big fish out. I made sure my smelt were large and active and let them do their work. Unfortunately, the rest of the day proved to be slow, and I didn't get another flag by the time I left. What do I have to say about this? Yes, it was slow, but that single flag from a small fish made all the difference! I finally caught a Maine trout through the ice. I hope there are many more! Plus, it was a wonderfully comfortable day to simply be outdoors. My local friend also revealed that this is a productive perch lake; that may have been the activity I saw on the sonar. He said they get to a good size, and maybe I'll add some bottom bouncers and Gulp! to the tackle bag when next I visit during the soft water season. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: February 5, 2023 Body of Water: Upper Range Pond - Poland, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon Boat: None, this was ice fishing With: P and N, local friends Target: Trout, but happy to accept anything Time: 11 AM - 3:45 PM Conditions: A day after a historic cold front, including local temperatures down to -20 degrees F or so the day before; mixed clouds and sun; generally mild southerly wind and 20 - 32 degrees. About 11 inches of ice and a fair number of folks out fishing! Winter was late to arrive this season, and other than having my gear prepped and ready to go, I hadn't really even thought of ice fishing until after the passage of this most recent cold front. I figured the two nights below zero and daily highs in single digits had firmed up the ice, and I found a solid 11 inches on Upper Range ("Rang") Pond. I've fished this attractive pond three times before from my boats, and have had some success each time. A two-story fishery with a variety of trout species and reasonable access, it's a popular choice for "early" ice. There was a vague plan that a couple of local friends, P and N, would join me. Having picked up a couple of dozen smelt at Sebago Bait, I was greeted at the access by N, his wife J, and their dog "Tek". The narrows between the lake proper and the launch was crowded with tip-ups (N and J had caught a fine brookie through the ice here in 2022), and we saw a group with kids running between flags. We continued our walk past a small island. I knew a rocky and weedy reef stretched off this structure, and I'd caught trout on the troll in this area. It seemed like a good place to start for my inaugural ice adventure here and for 2023! By the crack of 11 AM, my five traps were set. There'd been no real sense in starting earlier, it was still cold and a bit breezy! I had a couple of traps in 5 or 6 feet of water, one nearby in 16, and two others near the reef break in 10 and 21 feet. A lively smelt swam beneath each trap, and I was mildly surprised to not have experienced any action by the time these were set. Meanwhile, N and J set their allotted traps with native shiners nearby. We'd saved one hole for jigging. We set up in the local "basin" of 21 feet. I had two fish swim by, right along bottom, but these showed no interest in the flashing spoon-and-smelt-head. Unfortunately, we saw nothing suspended. Based on this, after 15 minutes, I placed my deepest trap bait right on bottom. And then we waited for a while. Nothing happened. P found us and took over jig duty. Nothing happened. All the while, Tek demanded my attention and retrieved his rubber throw toy over and over and over. At about 12:30, having drilled and scouted additional holes, checking and adjusting all baits and having moved a couple of traps to the other (inside) edge of the reef into about 12 feet of water, the work paid off. FLAG! One of these new locations had resulted in some action. Quite a bit of line had been taken off, but I was disappointed to find nobody home. As I re-set the bait, a fish ate my descending smelt out of my hand. After a brief run, it dropped the bait again. Oh well, I had plenty of bait, and a new smelt went down the hole. Shortly thereafter, the same flag popped again. This time, the spool was turning, and I came tight to a fish. Soon enough, I had color at the hole. It wasn't my desired trout, but rather a 13 or 14-inch largemouth bass. Good enough, this was my first fish of 2023, and my first ever largemouth bass on a smelt! For a while, this area was hot! I added a third trap to the vicinity to try to take the most advantage. Ultimately, I landed three largemouths between about 13 and 15 inches out of a dozen or more flags. The action was concentrated in two waves around 1 and 3 PM. Some were just simple drops, but a few took a lot of line before doing so, and I felt the weight of two other fish before they came unbuttoned. All the while, only two other traps sprang to life, and each was just a drive-by. I took some crap from the group for harassing bass when we were trout fishing, but was I really supposed to abandon this area when virtually nothing else was going on? For our group, or the others within range, too? What do I have to say about this? With a couple of new fishing buddies, solid ice, moderating temperatures and plenty of action, this was a good outing! While we didn't find the trout we'd hoped for, when that flag flies, for a few moments, one thinks it could really be ... anything! Especially when the spool was turning at a steady clip, I couldn't help but remember fine trout from the past. All the gear worked, too, with no problems. Standing on the ice and walking 15,000 steps left me a bit stiff and sore. But that's a small price for some quality time on the water. Plus, I was reminded several times; I now live in Maine. The setting was beautiful, and the "crowd" was pretty inconsequential. I've got lots of learning to do, but it should be a pleasant experience for me. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: November 13, 2022 Body of Water: Worthley Pond - Peru, Maine Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous Moon; Full plus five days Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Trout Time: 8 AM - 2 PM Conditions: Fog, mist, drizzle and some rain showers; mild northerly wind and 45 - 50 degrees. Water temperature 51 degrees (+/-). Sure, it was cold and wet; but the wind forecast was mild, and so this trip was a go! Based on my last trip to Worthley, I knew waders were in order. I'd just top them off with my neoprene StormR jacket, and I'd be relatively oblivious to any rain. And that's exactly how conditions played out! I was alone on the lake, and I started in the south basin, where I'd taken three of the four fish a week ago. My initial spread was the flat-lined J9 Rapala in fire-tiger/trout, paired with a small yellow/black "Bumblebee" Michigan Stinger spoon off two colors of lead. I was close to a couple of previous waypoints in just over 20 feet of water when the spoon-rod jumped; an approximate foot-long brown came to hand. I was off to a relatively quick start! When I circled around, I couldn't help but notice all the bottom-hugging fish off this point in 35+ feet of water. After an unproductive pass along the edge, I moved out into this deeper water and replaced the surface flat-line with a copper/watermelon Stinger presented with seven colors of lead. I spent 20 minutes or so in this deeper water, but didn't trigger any bites. When I decided to pull lines, I intentionally retrieved the seven-core one color at a time, with a long pause every 30 feet. This old Lake Michigan trick paid off, as a bonus brown pounced on my spoon. Still, this didn't seem like a winning formula, and so I headed to the north end of the lake, where I picked up the drop and bounced between 12 and 30 feet of water. I was now fishing with a small Wolverine spoon in fire tiger off two colors of lead, and an F7 Rapala in gold/orange. Each rod jumped, but neither hooked up. Fifteen minutes later, I replaced each presentation with an F11 Rapala in blue and a pink/silver DB Smelt off the light two-color rod. With the floating Rapala, I could also edge a bit shallower, as the low-light conditions had me believe that some fish were active somewhere. Pretty quickly, the F11 (125 feet back) was eaten at the edge of some weeds in about 10 feet, and I landed my third brown of the day. When the faithful F11 got hit, again, in a very similar position, I knew I was developing something; but this fish jumped off. I continued to work with the breeze along the eastern shoreline. The spoon rod got slammed a couple of times, inexplicably not hooking up. I repeated this pass again, but now replaced the F11 with a J9 in copper and orange. At the least, I could tell this bait was swimming properly by the throbbing rod tip; plus, this lure has historically been a rainbow killer. Why not give it a shot? This J9 took the next two fish, both rainbows in the 14 - 15 inch range. One of these was at the very tip of a rocky and weedy bar extending from shore into deeper water. This aggressive fish hammered the bait, hard! The other came on the back-side of an active group of fish that I marked in about 25 feet of water. My spoon rod jumped twice here without connecting; but when the trailing J9 entered this zone, an aerial rainbow attacked. Meanwhile, I continued to swim the pink DB Smelt off the light, two-color rig. The swings and misses revealed some fish, but not all of them missed; I caught three additional browns on this setup. They were all about 12 inches; not big, but mean enough to attack and bend my rod. These came from 12 to 30 feet of water, and it does seem that a fair number of strikes on this lake to date have come on baits heading to deeper water from shallower structure and cover. While the northeast portion of the lake had been productive, I decided to continue trolling the eastern shoreline to the south as my clock wound down. After a couple more misses on the DB Smelt, I was pleased to finally hook up; when I landed Trout No. 8 for the day at exactly 2 PM, I decided to call it a day. What do I have to say about this? I enjoyed the solitude and trouty weather. While I am looking for larger fish, I'll take whatever action I can find, and this was a pretty active day. I am sure that obvious hit-and-runs at least equalled the trout I landed. I lost only one, and I made contact with a lot more fish than in recent trips. I need to add another casting rod to my arsenal; those bottom-oriented fish in 35 - 40+ feet might respond to a blade bait, jig or spoon. P.S. This turned out to be the last boating session of 2022. Weather and holiday schedules conspired to convince me to put the boat away. At least I have a couple of improvements planned for amybaby22's 2023 season. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: November 11, 2022 Body of Water: Upper and Middle Range Ponds - Poland, Maine Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous Moon, Full plus three days Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Trout Time: 8 AM - 2:15 PM Conditions: Mixed clouds; developing southerly wind from remnants of Hurricane Nicole; 45 - 70 degrees. Water temperature 49-53 degrees (+/-). I took advantage of the holiday to hit the water again. I decided to try Upper Middle Range ("Rang") Pond, with the option of navigating into Middle Range Pond if necessary. It was a beautiful fall day, if still too warm. But water temperatures had dropped over the week, and I had some confidence as I set my simple trolling spread on Upper Range. My confidence got a significant boost when the green S7 Rapala swimming 70 feet behind the boat got slammed as it came off a weedy flat and into 20 feet or more of water. Unfortunately, that fish came unbuttoned. This area looked fishy and so I took another pass. I thought this same lure found some weeds as the rod tipped twitched feebly; this turned out to be a 4-inch largemouth bass. I still felt skunked, though. The only other angler was bass fishing, and he was doing decently well by drop-shotting 15-20 feet of water. I reported slow trout fishing, and that turned out to be an understatement. By 10:30 AM, nothing else had happened despite a variety of baits and covered water, and so I navigated the shallow water connecting Upper and Lower Range. This was my first attempt on Middle. It seems to be a rather featureless bowl, but still with plenty of boulders, and larger and much deeper than Upper Range. It has a lot of water in excess of 40 feet deep, up to 70 feet or so. I focused my efforts on 15 - 30 feet and basically circumnavifished the lake. I fished hard from 8 to 30 feet of water, and I even covered the deeper basin water with up to seven colors of lead. I swam a variety of Rapalas and spoons, but my only hit of the day came at about 11:45 AM on a pink and silver DB Smelt trailing two colors of lead. This fish too came from a weedy edge as the bait crossed into more than 20 feet of water. Regardless, I was pleased to land a spunky and rosy, 15-inch rainbow. And that was it for the day, despite the approaching storm. The bite shut off, and I was on the road by 2:45 PM. What do I have to say about this? Both of these ponds offer ice fishing potential. Each harbors three types of trout, and I've identified a few areas within walking distance of access points. Upper seems to have a good weed condition, and they both deserve some more attention. And not just for trout; at least Upper Range seems to be a good bass pond. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: November 6, 2022 Body of Water: Worthley Pond - Peru, Maine Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous Moon; Full minus two days Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Brown, Brook, Rainbow Trout Time: 9 AM - 2:15 PM Conditions: About 65 degrees, mostly cloudy and a strong (15+ mph) southerly wind. Rain showers in mid-afternoon. Water was clear but tannic and 53 - 54 degrees. I headed north to try to escape the negative effects of the fall turnover. Based on just a bit of reliable intel and knowing the ramp location, I chose Worthley Pond in Peru (Oxford County), Maine for the day's expedition. It's about 75 minutes from home and so within a reasonable radius for a day trip. Plus, I wanted to scope it out before attempting to ice fish here. The ramp proved to be marginal, but still okay for my small skiff and given my willingness to get wet. Next time I will bring waders; but now I know what I face, here. Soon enough, I had picked up the drop-off and was heading north along the eastern shore. My initial baits included F7 and S7 Rapalas in Brown Trout and Silver-over-blue patterns, respectively. Moving along the edge between 8 and 20 feet of water, I always have confidence that these baits will find active trout! When I reached the lake's wind-blown north end, I switched things up and moved off the edge a bit. A J7 Rapala in orange/gold trailed 100 feet or more behind, while I also presented a small firetiger Wolverine spoon off two colors of lead. I'd just marked a couple of targets 45 minutes into the session when the lead-core rod jumped! But it was a swing and a miss, and as the day progressed, I started to doubt that I'd actually had a hit. I kept changing things up, though, and I relocated to the south end of the lake. Here, I picked up the drop-off and presented a small, orange-with-black-dots DB Smelt off two colors of lead on a very light rod. Fortunately, this set-up got slammed and I stayed hooked up. This fish had come from about 28 feet of loon-occupied water right next to shore. It looked fishy above the waterline and below via sonar. I finally landed my first trout of the fall. Even though it was just a small rainbow (12 inches or so), it had hit the bait with gusto and I was pleased to welcome it aboard! I then made the best move of the day; both hits had been on "hot" colored baits and so I replaced my long, flat-line with a J9 Scatter Rap in a fire- tiger/trout pattern. Both hits had come in 25+ feet of water, too, and so I aggressively zigged and zagged between the edge in 12 feet and 30 or so feet of water. These tactics paid off with three more trout and another drive-by miss between 11:45 and 1:15. The fishing wasn't hot and heavy, but it sure was better than the previous day or earlier in the morning! The trout weren't big, averaging about 14 inches and topping out at 15 or 16. But they were all individually aggressive, and fun on my light tackle. All came between 20 and 30 feet of water, and all ate that same J9 Scatter Rap. What do I have to say about this? Are these the fish I can expect, or are other, bigger trout readily available? I don't know yet. Of course I was spoiled by Lake Michigan and connecting lakes, but my scaled-down tactics are still fun, and I will take whatever trout come my way while I learn and recalibrate. I'm still looking for that hit where it's difficult to get the rod out of the holder, though! I've got a 3-day weekend on the horizon and the weather is taking a turn to cooler conditions. Maybe that will jump-start the trout fishing. I've got plenty of ponds to try, but I can see myself returning to Worthley very soon! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: November 5, 2022 Body of Water - Little Sebago Lake - Windham, Maine Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous Moon; Full minus three days Boat: amybaby22 With: A Target: Brown and Rainbow Trout Time: 8:30 AM - 12:30 PM Conditions: Too nice; clear and warming up to 75 degrees with a persistent southerly wind. Water was clear but with lots of leaves; water temperature was a dreaded 53 - 55 degrees (+/-). A joined me on a local trout quest on this beautiful day. Too beautiful for effective fishing; the only activity with a worse curse for such gentle November weather would have been deer hunting. Little Sebago Lake is relatively nearby, has a nice ramp and a bit of a reputation for trout, even though it is likely a better bass/perch/pickerel fishery. I've only fished it once, through the ice. I had targeted trout but scored just a dandy chain pickerel and some assorted white and yellow perch. With the evening scheduled, we stayed close to home and gave this popular lake a shot. I did not like my thermometer's reading; with the breakup of the thermocline at about 55 degrees, short-term chaos and for fishing can ensue. On Lake Michigan under such conditions, targeted trout and salmon could be on the surface, or they could be more than 100 feet down. Any presentation could be as likely to get hit as another. Success often boiled down to persistence, covering water, and a good dose of luck. Here, the anoxic bottom water could now mix with the surface, releasing trapped organics but also giving fish new harbor. I'd be lucky to find anything that would concentrate any catchable fish. In short - I never had that good luck and I never found any biters. Despite covering the surface down to 20 feet or more, and exploring the central and southern basins of this complex lake, I never had a touch as I trolled stick-baits, small spoons and salmon flies near edges and in the open basins. It just never happened. But A had a great day soaking up the sun. Everything worked well, we encountered no problems, and we "discovered" another potential water, Chaffin Pond. That small pond holds brook trout and could provide for an accessible trip for Maine's State Fish through the ice or at ice-out. What do I have to say about this? I detest getting skunked, but the fall turnover always represents a difficult challenge. Every trip is a new experience to me, here, so I will continue to pay my dues. It was worthwhile learning this lake. The neck between the middle and south basins has a fair amount of current and shallow water. It's within walking distance of the ramp and could be worth investigating through the ice for trout or pickerel. And, I don't mind having Chaffin Pond in my back pocket - it is small, protected and accessible, and could offer a promising alternative to the larger bodies of water I've explored so far. Plus, I've plans for the next 10 days or so, maybe I'll build on this (negative) experience. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 15-17, 2022 Body of Water: Merced River drainage, Yosemite National Park, California Moon Phase: Full Moon on First Day; waning gibbous moon Tides: NA Boat: None; shore fishing without waders With: Alone Target: Trout - rainbows or browns Time: Early every morning, and then various Conditions: Absolutely beautiful weather and scenery. Water was high, clear and cold which made fishing very difficult. Wow! Yosemite is stunning and worthy of anybody's time. I don't even care that I didn't catch a fish; I was constantly reminded that other things are more important! It took me too long to get there. That said, fishing was tough! I had also handicapped myself with my preparations and gear. I did have a prolonged interaction with what would have been my stream trout of a lifetime, and that was enough success for me! This trip was a mere suffix to the meaningful family events of the week. The entire trip was a bonus and the ordinary metrics of success don't really matter. What does matter, is that we did it! My focus and energy were elsewhere; my preparations were less intense than usual. I expected tough fishing conditions (check!), and to seek small trout in small environments with small, natural flies. Once again, I was reminded of the value of planning as opposed to specific plans. We arrived Sunday evening, and as quickly as possible, I was rigging up alongside the Merced River, in the Happy Isles section above the campgrounds. The value of my plans was already questionable; the tributary streams I had in mind were not accessible by car, but rather only by hiking in! And, this water was high, very clear, and faster than I preferred. I hadn't targeted stream trout with a fly in almost 14 years (see numenon.blogspot.com/2012/10/out-west.html , and especially the last few paragraphs), but strangely, I still had some confidence that I might catch a small native trout or two. At first I tried a two-nymph rig, but my rate of attrition on flies was way too high! Abundant wood in the river was especially sticky, and I lost a few flies to back-casts in the tight quarters, too. The current was raging, and I thought I might be able to both conserve flies and maintain depth control to a greater degree with a drop-shot rig. Perhaps so, but I still spent the night fishless. I did, however, see a couple of small (tiny) trout tucked behind a boulder, and a very few large, dark mayflies were evident. I executed a few good casts, too. Mostly, this had been scouting and I decided to try elsewhere in the morning. I confidently crossed the meadow, only to find the bank of the Merced "closed" to preserve bank vegetation and control erosion. Thus began 17 miles of searching for the day. There would be more walking than actual fishing. Finding the proper combination of access, castability and depth (especially without waders and while fly fishing) kept me on the hoof. Most spots got 10 casts or less before I moved on. The river here was more quiet, and my rig consisted of a simple soft-hackle fly above a bead-headed caddis nymph, both suspended under an indicator. In the still morning, I saw neither bug nor fish activity. I had headed downstream, and as I approached Yosemite Village, my time for the morning was running out. I crossed the river to pick up the road/sidewalk on my way back to camp. I tried another couple of spots on my return, with more of the same results. I was pondering my approach for the rest of the trip. Luckily, however, I struck a conversation with a gentleman walking about, and he excitedly pulled out his camera to show me some pictures he'd taken of various other fisherman and their recent catches in this area. Most had been captured by wading spin fisherman, but all had been captured in slower sections. I could certainly picture this; what really surprised me was the fish he showed were mostly brown trout, and larger than I had anticipated, up to 3.5 pounds or so. I'd further handicapped myself by not having included sinking tips and streamers in my travel kit. Still, this was good information, and this provided a new horizon for me to explore in my remaining time. After breakfast, we hiked along Tenaya Creek to the head of Mirror Lake. I spotted a rising trout at the tail of the lake. Life! As I rigged a dropper/dry presentation, an ill-informed youngster chucked some rocks at the rise forms. That trout was now down, but I still got in some nice casts and drifts. Parts of Tenaya Creek beckoned, but for the most part, I kept moving, looking ahead for some slower water. We found that later in the afternoon, when we drove to the section of the Merced below Yosemite Village. I accessed the river at Swinging Bridge. The water here was smooth, clear, and in some areas, very deep. Still, I was able to spy a pair of nice rainbows on a gravel flat upstream. These were well out of reach to me, so I watched them with some satisfaction. But when I turned my gaze downstream, I found three dandy trout in a perfect position. The river's main current crashed into the (protected and off-limits) bank, creating an eddy. These fish were in the soft water just downstream of the "U" in the eddy. One of them rose steadily and predictably to unseen food; probably to emerging midges. I spent the next hour or more trying to figure these fish out. I was able to get to within 30 feet or so of their position, but surrounded by bank vegetation. Every time I tried to reach them with a cast, I would catch this on the back-cast. I resorted to establishing a short cast and then stripping line to extend my drift as my flies (Parachute Adams dry with a generic soft-hackle trailer) floated downstream. I concentrated my efforts on the single rising fish, which also was positioned closest to me. This fish fed confidently and right on schedule. Every three minutes or so, its posture would change, it would drift a bit to the side, and after a beat or two, pluck something off the surface. I began to time my casts and drifts to this fish's rhythm. I flubbed or aborted most casts base on length, drift or drag, but still fully executed multiple casts and drifts without putting this fish down. But it didn't seem interested in these flies, and so I repeated with trailing caddis and midge emerges. With still no interest, I decided to rest this fish and look for another in my remaining time. I worked all the way down to Sentinel Beach. I worked some nice water and spotted another nice rainbow trout. This one was tucked under an exposed tree root, and also ignored my presentations (from positions above and below its lie.) I started hiking again, this time going upstream of the bridge and on the other side of the river. I saw no fish, and finding suitable casting conditions to appropriate water was uncommon. I was almost back to Yosemite Village when I decided to head back. Returning to my feeding fish and with time for the day running out, I had just gotten myself into position when I was joined by two young boys. Their presence made casting impossible, but the oldest was interested in fishing and so we chatted for a bit while I pointed the fish out to him and got him accustomed to its habits. When he finally "saw" the fish, he was fairly astounded, and he stayed behind, watching the feeder, as I left to join A and M. I took A on a reconnaissance tour of the nearby fish, and truly appreciated her reaction to my problem fish; "That's a big-a$$ trout!" So, despite my best efforts, I'd been skunked for the day. But it was really the best possible skunk. That night I dreamt of these trout; I hoped to return for another shot. First thing in the morning, I tried the slower water above Yosemite Village again, but this time with a simple weighted black marabou streamer with a generic wet, soft hackle above. I re-fished the previous day's water with some confidence, and even found a few other spots worth drifting through. Still, this was difficult and my ability to reach the best-looking water was limited. But it was still a good session, as my single streamer boosted my confidence for a good fish. But mostly I was looking ahead. I felt that the root-hugging rainbow might be vulnerable to the streamer from an upstream position. Plus, who could not look forward to another crack at my large, active feeder? Arriving in the late morning with M, she was the first to notice the higher water conditions. I confirmed the location of the various "bridge" trout before heading downstream to that rainbow of interest. Unfortunately, this fish had apparently changed positions with the higher flow, and I could neither see nor catch the attention of any fish in my section of most interest. Returning to the bridge, I found that my three eddy trout were slightly re-positioned, too. Two were hugging the bank and totally inaccessible. The third (largest and still feeding) had just slightly shifted position and was now out of reach; my casting position had been slightly compromised by the higher water and I just could not get enough line in the water to execute a proper drift. I left the park defeated by the fish, but somehow still exhilarated. What do I have to say about this? Have I mentioned how large that big-a$$ trout was? At least 22 inches and possibly more. While it wouldn't have been my biggest stream trout, it certainly was the most technically difficult one, perfectly positioned in the most beautiful setting. It would have been a fish of my lifetime, but I guess that honor will go to some future fish. Walking around a national park with fly-rod in hand is apparently my natural setting. I was approached and smiled at by more strangers in my short stay than I will be in the next several months in my regular life. While all expressed interest, I only saw two other people actually fishing during my stay. One was doing so oblivious to law or fish, the other was fly-fishing from an inflatable raft. I wonder if they saw, stalked and captured "my" fish? This time, especially on the heels of some special shared events with my family, also gave me an encouraging glimpse of what retirement might be like. I hope to make the most of it. Walking around a national park, fly-rod in hand, is a pretty good gig, even if the fishing is tough! Finally, just as I was wrapping this up, I came across this article - www.hatchmag.com/articles/12-keys-becoming-great-fly-angler/7715490. I am by no means a "great" fly angler, but I really can't argue with the 12 elements listed here to become one, should on so choose. Many of these elements apply, regardless of the pursuit, and so it's worth reading and thinking about, regardless of your fly-fishing ambitions. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 8, 2022 Body of Water: Trickey Pond - Naples, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon plus six days; waxing crescent moon Boat: amybaby22 With: A Target: Trout - brookies or splake Time: 7:45 AM - 11:15 AM Conditions: Cold night but sunny; about 40 - 55 degrees F; northerly wind around 10 mph; water temperatures 48 - 50 I thought I'd given beautiful Trickey enough time to warm up and get going. I may have been mistaken. Other than the cold morning, our first tolling pass along the cover-strewn shoreline felt right. Our spread (tandem fly, DB Smelt off a short core, and flat-lined S7 and J9 Rapalas) provided ample choice for any trout (or landlocked salmon) in the area, and with water temperatures in the high forties, those fish should have been active. I continually tweaked the spread and boat speed, but after a couple of passes, I pulled out to deeper water and replaced the DB Smelt with a flasher/fly combo and the J9 with a small spoon on five colors of lead. As we approached the north end without a hit, I pulled lines and simplified for a consistently shallow effort consisting of an F7 Rapala, the DB Smelt on a single color of lead, and the tandem fly. We spent some time in the interesting and quiet north end before retracing the shallows along the eastern shore. But it didn't matter; we never got anything going and had pulled lines by the time we reached the ramp. What do I have to say about this? Strike three! This was my third skunk in a row on Trickey. But it's a beautiful lake and I will likely return for another at-bat. However, I was truly disappointed with this trip. Beyond the opportunity cost (we could have gone to another lake and who knows what could have happened), this was likely my last trip of the Spring trolling season. I'd have liked to have gone out on a high note! And I'd have loved to have captured a nice brookie, splake or salmon. I'll get over it though. I will likely next wet a line in Yosemite (tough to argue with that), and amybaby22 will next splash in the salt. Stripers will be arriving soon! But first, how will I take to nymphing with tiny flies on unfamiliar water? Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 30, 2022 Body of Water: Mousam Pond - Shapleigh, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Trout Time: 8 AM - 12:30 PM Conditions: Clear and bright, brisk NNW wind 10-15 mph (after a couple of days of even heavier winds); about 45-50 degrees F; water temperatures about 47 +/- , a degree or 2 warmer in the lower portion of the lake below the culvert I had some time constraints, and I'd enjoyed myself the previous trip. The other factor was the northerly wind. I knew Mousam would be fishable, the ramp would pose no problems, and there would be fish to be caught; so I elected to return. Upon launching, I immediately but carefully ran the 12 or 15 minutes up the wind-blown lake to the rocky reef guarding the entrance to the northernmost complex of bays. I gave the only other trout-trolling boat of the day wide berth as we each set our initial trolling spread for the day. Mine consisted of a gold/black S7 Rapala presented 100 feet back, and a DB Smelt on 45 feet of lead-core as I picked up the shoreline break in about 15 feet of water. I occasionally wandered into deeper or shallower water as I searched for the day's first trout. Once our respective trolling paths were established, I turned back to the windward side of the reef. This prominent feature stretches from a main shoreline point, a majority of the distance to the opposite shore. By now, I'd been fishing for 20 minutes or so without a strike, but as I traced the reef's edge in about 15 feet of water, I really felt confident that something good might happen. Thunk! The Rapala rod bowed over, and I felt some substantial weight bull-dogging for the bottom. I turned the boat away from the reef to keep myself out of trouble while I tended to this fish. I half expected to see a togue, but was happy to see the silvery glint of a nice brown trout! This fish pulled line several times as it neared the boat, but soon enough rested in the bottom of my landing net. I was off to a good start, and I expected more good things from the day. However, the fish behaved otherwise. Despite my efforts, including a return to last week's places and tactics as well as trying new spots and presentations, the only bite I got for the rest of the day was from a smallish yellow perch. By 12:30, the weight of the day's remaining responsibilities started to weigh upon me, and I headed to the ramp. What do I have to say about this? I'll not argue with a day including a beautiful brown trout, especially when it's my largest in Maine to date. I am starting to build on some local experience, the water temperatures are moving in the right direction, and trout fishing from amybaby22 has proven to be a pretty pleasant way to chase fish this spring. When it became apparent that the going was slow, I chose to explore new areas of the lake and incorporated some new tactics into my spread. Nothing ever materialized from this, but I did enjoy (and have considerable confidence in) running a small dodger with a trailing tandem streamer. This locally favored presentation provided a nice, visible pulse to the lead-core rod tip, and affirmed my trolling speed and weed-free presentation. The fly really danced on its short leader behind the flashy dodger. Still, I am looking for that day where it all comes together. I'll keep trying! Meanwhile, I've reports that Trickey Pond is starting to fish well, I've got several waters on my mind to try, and after an upcoming, planned, pleasant hiatus for family matters in the next couple of weeks, I expect my Casco Bay mooring to be installed and the stripers to arrive. I continue to search for a replacement trailer for Numenon, and I've got a lot of positive experiences in front of me! Which is all why I can take the loss of my rod-holders and storage crate from amybaby22 on the way home in stride. Did they bounce out, or were they filched during my pit stop? Regardless, replacements are on the way. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
Steve LachanceRI --> NH --> MI-->MA-->ME Archives
June 2024
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